As an agoraphobic, panic disorder sufferer, as well as a disabled vet my world is so much different than the typical person. I discovered yesterday that the health care worker just has no clue as to the gravity of the situation for an agoraphobic to leave the safety of one’s home to seek care. To the agoraphobic it means you are questioning your own mortality. To the healthcare worker you are merely sick. I am disgusted with my profession. I heard the words last night, “There is nothing else we can do for you”. I will no longer associate myself with the medical profession.
I have been ill for about a week. Nausea and diarrhea. What I have eaten you could put in one stretched out hand this week. Typically a human can survive up to 3 weeks without food if properly hydrated. I took pains to make sure I was properly hydrated. I have read stories of people fasting for 3 days intentionally to clean out their systems, but because of the constant cortizol dumps I have from panic attacks I really do not think that would be to my advantage physically. To counter this blood sugar drop I supplemented with pure honey, a tablespoon at a time till I felt the shakes, disorientation, and weakness subside.
This did not however curb the intense worry about the fact that I could not seem to swallow some foods like bread, just could not swallow it. As the days turned into a week the panic attacks that I had so learned to tolerate became so intense that for the first time in many years I truly mulled suicide. I had thought that when I thought about this before I was semi serious. I was wrong. For the first time I found myself in a place where I was a sure I could do it. The line in the sand had finally been stepped over for me. I no longer gave concern to my family, friends, animals, property, or life. Like Anita Moorjani says once you shine your flashlight on it…you can never go back and unsee it. You can not forget what you have learned or experienced, or the understanding of it. The little mustard seed capsule dropped to the ground and broke, scattering the seed to the wind.
I sought help. I went to the VA. They thought I was dehydrated, they gave me fluids. The cause of the illness did not seem to be as much of a concern to them as it was to me. I wanted to know what made me sick and how to stop it. I was sent home with no more that an advisement to drink fluids and a BRAT diet, which is what I had been doing for a week. When I got home I was worse off than when I went. Just lifting my head was an invite to pass out. Everything around me seemed unreal and a dream. At times I was not even sure where I was, how I got there or why I was there. I could not go through another night like this so I had my husband drive me to a local public hospital. When I asked him to take me he flew into a rage. He is a narcissist. I inconvenienced him for which I would pay dearly a little later.
There I was met with hostility. I was chewed out for showing up in an emergency room without an emergency after I explained I had been to the VA earlier in the day and my experience there and the fact I was feeling worse. To me it WAS an emergency, to them I was wasting their time, they were busy. Then the words everybody deads to hear, “There is nothing else we can do for you”. I left.
I have put my farm animals up for sale. They were my reason for living. I can not care for them as they need be. I can no longer carry the 50 pound feed bags to the barn. I can not tolerate the heat/cold to make sure they have water all the time. The rabbits and cats will be next. I have mapped out a plan to sell/distribute/throw out my belongings. A process that will daunting and heartbreaking. The other alternative is to just leave this place and leave it to my family to do. Problem there is it will all fall on my daughter who has stuck by me through all of this. She does not deserve that.
So as the sun has risen this morning I have much to do, and will carry on until my body decides it can no longer go on, or heals on its own. I will no longer seek medical assistance and have written DNR on my chest to make sure that when I do collapse no heroic measure are performed.
I cannot unsee what I have seen.
And so it is.